Protection
by Sanshal
Summary: Summery- The conversation begins with: "You know we were lucky to have Dad" and ends up changing Sam's perceptions.


**Protection**

**Summery- The conversation begins with: "**_**You know we were lucky to have Dad**_**" and ends up changing Sam's perceptions.**

Warnings- some mild cursing. Hopefully that will not put you off reading this.  
Disclaimer- Don't own the boys. Want to, though.  
A/n- I know that this scenario has been done so many times, by writers far better than me; but I still wanted to put up my take on the Max incident. Tell me if it's any good?Please?  
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"You know we were lucky to have Dad," Sam finally admits.

Dean snorts, "I know."

_Too late to realize that, Sammy._..but he keeps his thoughts to himself.

"I mean, a little more of the alcohol and a little less hunting ... and we could have turned out like Max. We turned out okay, all things considered."

He stares at the road ahead, sure Dean would agree. So sure, in fact; that he doesn't even bother to glance at his brother. The sudden tensing of muscles as Dean ducks and mutters '_All things considered'_that he notes from his peripheral vision startles him, but he doesn't connect the dots till they are leaving town, the highway flying beneath the wheels of the impala.

"Yeah," His older brother had acknowledged, but Sam Winchester could feel the lack of conviction behind the statement. There may not be a lot of things that he may know, _irrespective of his unfinished college education,_but the one thing he is good at is '_Dean'-ology_. He has been reading his brother since before he really understood what he was doing, and right then, the waves of tension poring off his brother screamed of something he doesn't quite understand.

It was on the tip of his tongue to question Dean about it, but he recognized the rigid expression too well to know the world of good _that_ would do. Dean can be annoyingly stubborn if he puts his mind to it, and this- whatever '_this'_is, is something he instinctively knows that his brother will clam up about.

So he stayed quiet and let his mind wander, knowing he would eventually grow tired of stewing with nervous energy and question Dean eventually.

Only now that the case is behind them, his mind has nothing else to distract him. Sure, he had Dean's vehement denial that _Sam was not evil- could never turn evil_ but then Dean had always refused to admit to any shortcoming his brother might liked to believe that he was a bit more pragmatic- preferring to know consequences rather than deal with them when they hit. However, right now he was content staring at the open countryside rolling along the road, not even realizing when his mind veered towards his argument with Dad before he left for Stanford.

It had been a hell of an argument.

"_You are NOT going!"_

"_I am. And there is nothing that you can do to stop me!"_

_He had seen the fury in John Winchester's eyes. Seen the nostrils flare at what his father considered insubordination._

_But he had not seen the hands curling into fists at his father's side. Had not understood when he father had reared his hand back- Dad never hit them. Sure, he was a tough man. And sometimes, it seemed, he did everything he could to ensure that Sam hated him. But his father never raised his hand on his sons. Not unless they were sparring, and even then, Sam sometimes wondered if his father- hunter extraordinaire that he was; did not hold himself back somewhat- careful that he did not hurt his sons._

_So he had no clue what it meant when saw his father's arm pull back- fingers curled into a ruthless fist._

_Dean did._

_Later, when Sam had thought about it, he remembered Dean standing a little way off- warily eyeing their argument. Remembered the slight hunch of defeat in his brothers shoulders as he realized that this time Sam would not back down._

_He had been surprised when Dean had jumped between him and Dad, catching the swinging fist in mid-blow. How the hell did his brother manage to move so fast?_

_Had seen the muscles tremble in his brothers arms as his open palm folded over their Dad's hand- holding it steady._

"_Not Sammy." The words had been a low growl._

_Even after releasing his father's hand, Dean had stood there; bracing himself between the two- looking for all the world that he actually expected them to begin trading blows._

"_Pack your stuff, Sam. I'll drive you to the bus-stand."_

_His brother's softly voiced command had drawn him from his reverie. And for the first time in what had felt like a long time, he had followed orders without protest._

_He had never thought much of it- after all, wasn't Dean always putting himself between Dad and him?_

_But now that he thought about it, he wondered how Dean had known that Dad was about to punch him?_

And his words, 'Not Sammy'... so innocuous at the time; but now they jarred the realization through his very bones.

Oh-oh... Oh God! ...Dean knew because-

"Fuck!"

"Sammy?"

He winced against the concern in his brothers voice; abruptly realizing that while there would always be a small part of him- no matter how ruthlessly he tried to squash it- that looked to his older brother to make everything 'alright'; there was a part in Dean- much, much closer to the surface, that wished that he could actually _do_that.

"Dad used to beat you, didn't he?" He blurted, his tongue feeling thick and unwieldy as he tried to force the words passed his lips.

Dean's grip on the steering wheel hardened- his knuckles gleaming deathly while against the tan of his hands.

Sam sighed. Dean was not one to answer easily.

On the bright side- Dean was not the only stubborn Winchester. Sam could be as tenacious as any, and he had the added advantage of knowing the exact things to make Dean cave.

"Please?" He fixed his best 'kicked-puppy' expression on his brother's face; knowing Dean's peripheral vision was almost as sharp as any of the knives in their trunk.

"Dean, please... I need to know. .. Did Dad -" he gulped in a quick breath, reframing his question so that it was the least offensive- "Dad ever use corporal punishment on you?"

_Please . Please. Please say 'no'..._

Dean nodded. Once.

Sam felt his insides twist. His next words were barely a whisper.

"When?"

He saw Dean close his eyes briefly. His shoulders slumping with the same resignation as when he had realized that Sam _really_ meant to leave for Stanford.

"The first time?"

The rough gravel of his brother's voice grating against his ears.

_There had been more than once?_

He wanted to scream in frustration. He didn't.

He nodded- mimicking Dean's earlier action.

"After the Shtriga incident."

"What!" He tried to remember how old he had been at the time- calculate how young Dean had been... but his mind came up blank.

The hollow laugh from his left had him turning to face Dean so quickly that he was afraid of whiplash.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, _Samantha_... It was well deserved."

It dully registered that Dean was giving him an out- if he chose, he could bitch about being called' Samantha'... Call Dean a 'jerk'... Lighten the moment.

He did nothing.

His mind an endless loop of – Dad used to beat Dean. And Dean still believes that he deserved it. DadusedtobeatDeanAndDeanstillbelievesthathedeserve dit.

He took a deep breath, trying to restore some sense of calm in his wildly spinning head.

"You were just a kid, Dean. It was NOT your fault!"

His brother snorted. "I disobeyed Dad's order, Sammy. Nearly got you killed... How the fuck is that _not_ my fucking fault?"

"You were just a KID!" His raised voice had Dean give him a sidelong look, making him slump in his seat.

He could yell all he wanted, but nothing- _nothing-_was going to change Dean's mind. So he sat and stewed silently, replaying their conversation- cataloguing what he had just learnt.

_I disobeyed Dad's order._

"Shit!"

He could feel Dean rolling his eyes next to him.

"What now?" The easy tone effectively hiding any discomfort his brother might be feeling from their conversation.

"So, every time Dad felt you had disobeyed him, he-?" He couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud.

The corners of his mouth tightened, but he gave another brief nod, staring fixedly at the empty road ahead.

Sam wondered, what his brother was seeing- nearly opened his mouth to ask, before realizing he didn't want any more details.

_NO wonder Dean had always been so obedient._

"Why do you think he never-?"

"I made him promise." Dean cut in, not allowing him to finish.

Not Sammy.

And Sam felt like someone had sucker-punched him in his gut.

_Not Sammy._Dean had been reminding Dad of his promise.

It felt like someone had jabbed a knife through his insides. He closed his eyes, sucking in a deep gulp of much needed oxygen.

One last question remained.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He managed to keep his voice steady through the feeling of betrayal coursing through him.

His question obviously threw Dean for his brother glanced at him- eyebrows raised askance.

"What, you really wanted another reason to argue with Dad?"

The simple explanation loosened something inside Sam.

"Jerk." He muttered.

"Bitch." The softly murmured retort, with just a hint of fondness leaking into it cocooned Sam. Dean had always been there to protect him- be it from the school bullies or from the supernatural monsters they hunted... and with a pang he realized; _even_ from their Dad.


End file.
